Cry of the Fallen
by xCaptainBlaze
Summary: Foxface's life up to the point of suicide. Written for the All Hallow's Eve competition on the Starvation Forum.


"It's rigged. It's all rigged. They're going to kill us."  
The words echoed around the small cave, interrupting the dripping. Midea turned to the boy and frowned.

"What do you mean, it's rigged? It's always rigged. The Careers-"

"No, not that way. I mean it's fixed. Every one of us is going to die except the two from Twelve. They wouldn't want to damage that romance, not when the Capitol has fallen in love with them. They need them alive," he mused, leaning back against the stone wall. The girl tucked a strand of flame-red hair behind her ear and sighed.

"It's no use wondering about these things. Right now, I'm focusing on surviving. How's your leg?" she asked, to distract him from the disturbing prediction. He shifted position and winced.

"Feeling a bit better. Really, I need a sponsor to send something to help. But we both know that won't happen."

Midea felt a sudden surge of tenderness towards the boy, which she immediately tried to shake off to no avail. He gave a shaky smile.

"It's just bad luck," she said, sighing. "I mean, it's bad enough you had to drag yourself to the reaping with that injury, but..."

He nodded. "Worse that I got reaped." She smiled a little and crawled over to where he sat against the wall. Curling up next to him, she slipped off her jacket and arranged it over both of them. "It'll keep us warm if we share body heat," she excused herself. He nodded again and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. She felt her eyes growing steadily heavier and eventually gave in, closing them slowly and slipping into sleep.

* * *

Five-year-old Midea sat on her father's lap. Her mother walked in from the garden and relaxed into the rocking chair, taking up her sewing again. They were a picturesque family in a calm atmosphere, the very picture of happy. Her father continued narrating a funny story. Just as Midea burst into laughter at the punchline, the door was smashed open and a squad of Peacekeepers burst into the room.

* * *

Eight-year-old Midea was curled up at the foot of the oak tree, out of sight of the district. She was weeping uncontrollably. Hearing rustling behind it, she looked up to see her father standing over her. He knelt and took her in his arms, rocking her gently back and forth. After a while, she calmed down and looked up at him.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked him plaintively. He sighed.

"We didn't want to worry you unnecessarily. You were so young, and we thought..."

"You thought I couldn't handle it," she said back quietly. He nodded shamefully.

"I'm sorry, Midea. You deserved to know."

"Well, now I do," she replied bitterly. "And it wasn't thanks to you. The Peacekeeper said -"

"I don't care what the Peacekeeper said," he snapped. "Your brother was a good man. He didn't deserve what they did to him. He..."

"Why did she let him? Wouldn't she have preferred to go in his place? Or did she..." Midea couldn't finish her sentence. He picked up on the meaning immediately, though.

"Don't even dare think about your sister that way. None of us knew until it was too late. I'm sorry, Midea. Please, forgive me."

* * *

Eleven-year-old Midea walked quickly down the corridor of her school, hoping to avoid them but with no luck. The group of girls stepped out from a doorway and fanned out across the hall, trapping her. The leader smirked.  
"Going somewhere, Midea?" she asked. She tried to step around her, but the girl lashed out, knocking her books to the floor. Midea, mortified, bent to pick them up, but the girl grabbed a fistful of flaming red hair, keeping her standing.

"Aren't you gonna say anything?" she asked, smiling. "Don't tell me you're an Avox now, like your precious brother?"

Midea's head shot up in shock. Never had they talked about her brother. Even they saw the significance of that reference. How _dare_ she?

"I think she is," purred the girl. "What did you do this time? Are you a criminal? Did you follow Max's lead?"

Midea's cheeks flushed. "Max was not a criminal. The other boy had a knife. He would have..."

"The Capitol says he was," snapped the girl. Midea's lips tightened. She would not rise to the challenge. She couldn't.

"Then again, Foxy here couldn't floor a mouse, let alone a person. She couldn't possibly have done the same as her brother. I mean, it's hard for someone that tiny to match up to _murder_. You know what I heard? I heard that boy killed another boy, just for breaking up with that bitch of a sister."

The girl's mouth continued to move, continued to spew crude insults, but Midea heard nothing more. A red haze came over her vision, and when it cleared, her knuckles were bleeding and the girl was on the floor, clutching a bleeding nose.

* * *

Fourteen-year-old Midea stood over the grave, a bouquet of yellow roses held loosely in her hand. Through eyes blurred with tears, she read the gravestone again.

_Montgomery, Mathilda and Margo Farcry. Died in the factory fire which claimed many lives. _Below were dates of birth and death. Tears slipped down her face. She dropped the bouquet on the earth, not yet overgrown by grass, and turned to walk back towards the orphanage.

* * *

Sixteen-year-old Midea stood in the square, waiting for that painful moment when the name of the tribute would be read out. The escort fished around in the glass ball for a moment, retrieving a slip and unfolding it.

"Midea Farcry!"

She felt terror wash over her. However, the feeling was quickly overridden by a curious feeling of calm. As she climbed the podium, she searched for the source of the feeling. A smile spread over her face as she realised. It was anticipation. Soon, the last of the Farcrys would be gone, and they would be reunited.

* * *

Seventeen-year-old Midea woke with a gasp. The boy shifted to face her.

"What is it?" he whispered. "Bad dream?"

Midea thought over the flashbacks she had experienced, as crystal-clear as the day she had them. She nodded. "Bad dream. I just remembered. One second." She crawled over to the cave entrance and looked up at the sky.

"It's about midnight. That means... It's officially my birthday. I'm seventeen."

The boy smiled. "Well, then, happy birthday, Midea." She smiled and cuddled up to him, waiting silently for dawn.

* * *

The next day, Midea knelt over the body of her ally. He had been stabbed repeatedly in the chest, no doubt making for a painful, prolonged death – none of the wounds had pierced the heart. She bitterly regretted going out to scavenge. If she had been there... she would have died with him.

She felt something snap deep inside her. Yes, that's what she wanted. She wanted to die here, in this cave. She didn't want to win the Games. Who would be waiting for her at home? Nobody, that's who. But she had her whole family, and now Raven waiting for her in a very different place. Rising slowly, she left the cave, leaving behind all her food and weapons scattered around the body. The girl from Twelve had passed recently – it shouldn't have been to hard to locate her.

* * *

Midea crept up to the plastic sheet laden with food. She couldn't resist the food, even though she knew she didn't need it anymore. She devoured an apple and a scraping of cheese, which calmed the pain in her stomach somewhat, then took a handful of the berries. Nightlock. She would be dead almost immediately after eating them. Slowly, allowing the cameras to focus on her, she lifted the handful to her lips.

"I'm coming," she whispered, and swallowed them with no further ado.


End file.
